


Run with the Shadows

by thecyrin



Category: Saints Row, Saints Row the Third - Fandom
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Child Abuse, Drug Abuse, Eventual Smut, Excessive Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, It get worse later, Kick the babies good, Parkour, Porn With Plot, Romantic Friendship, Underage Drinking, Wrestling, sub/dom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:37:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecyrin/pseuds/thecyrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Serena is a combat medic, hardened to war and bloodshed. But when she goes back to Steelport, she'll be forced to keep up with a life that seems to be running away from her, and eventually, survive the fallout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I'm years late to the bandwagon and got Saints Row the Third! Here's a fanfic I've been obsessed with, and I hope you enjoy as much as I do.

Excitement bubbled through our plane, troops coming home. Kia glared out of the window from her seat, turned away from us. I scooted over to her and poked her cheek. “C'mon, get excited, we're going home to Steelport.” I smiled. Our tour of Afghanistan was finally over, this was my first and Kia's second. She helped me deal with being away from home and nearly being blown to bits every minute.

She focused her glare on me, but gave a bark of laughter, “Serena, thanks for everything.”

“Don't get mushy,” I chuckled. “But thanks for saving my ass back there. If not for you, I'd be on this plane, but in a box with a flag over it.”

She punched me in the arm. “You were medic for a reason. You saved at least half the guys here.”

“It's only natural that the best fighter and best medic team up.” I shrugged.

“Don't flatter yourself that much, you were pretty weak, now that I think about it. You should’ve stayed in med school.” She leered.

“How do you think I paid for it? And I saw more blood than you, so I’m not weak.”

“I spilled more blood than you, enough said.” She turned back to her window without another word. I pouted and turned away.

A man in a black, pinstripe suit strode his way over to us and sat down. He looked like a wrestler, and took up the entire seat, crushing me between him and the unyielding Kia. “Bastards kicking me off first class,” he grumbled. His cologne masked the  
smell of sweat. 

“Um excuse me,” I choked out and pressed against him.

He turned his head. “Yes?” He asked haughtily. 

“You're kind of crushing me...”

He stared me down for a moment, but then scooted enough away so I could breathe.

When I looked back to Kia, she was glaring at the man. “Have some manners.”

“Kia, chill,” I raised my hand.

“She’s right,” I felt him grab my hand, “I shouldn’t be rude to a pretty thing like you.”

I jerked away. “You’re okay, really.” 

The pilot’s voice came over the intercom and announced our arrival. All of the soldiers jumped up immediately and started rushing off. Kia and I jumped up and ran over the man’s legs in haste. We made our way out the doors and into the terminal. I tried to find Matt and my father. I saw them standing against the glass wall. Last time I’d seen Matt, he was a nerdy, little fourteen year old. 

“Sissy!” Matt cried and started sprinting headlong toward me. He tackled my torso and hugged me tight. Happiness shown in his baby blue eyes, the same color as mine. Same black hair, same facial structure, we looked like twins but with an age  
difference. A bruise marred the skin under his right eye, on his cheekbone.

“Matt,” I pulled him into a hug. I’d been so worried about him the whole time I was gone, I talked to him whenever I could. He always talked about Nyteblade, so I never fell behind in the show at all. "How'd you get that mark?"

"I fell," he said glumly. He kept his thick, British accent even though we moved away a few years ago.

"Ah, fell." Our code word.  

Our father walked over to us and put his hand on my shoulder. " 'Ello, love." he said with tears in his eyes. He actually missed me? Maybe he was upset I wouldn’t be getting soldier’s pay anymore. It’s how we paid for mom’s funeral and everything we owned at the apartment.

I willed myself to get up and hug him. "How were ya?" 

"Well enough." 

"How'd Matt really get that bruise?" I growled into his ear. 

His grip tightened on me. "He fell." 

Matt tugged on my arm. "What's this, sissy?" He was studying the phone number.

"Oh, it's nothing. someone wrote it on my arm." 

"You gonna call ‘em?”

“No,” I picked up my duffel and grabbed Matt’s arm. He studied the numbers on my arm, but started chirping away about Nyteblade. 

Our father lead us through the busy airport and through the entrance. Our black Chevy was waiting in the loading bay, in the handicapped space.

I jumped in the passenger side and closed the door. “You ever gonna learn how to park?”

He got in the driver’s seat and slammed the door. “I was in for ten minutes, sue me.” Matt climbed in the back and buckled up behind me. 

Dad started heading toward our house. The streets were busy, hookers waited on corners and men in suits were trying to ogle. Shadows of skyscrapers kept us cold in the June weather. Morningstar was probably up there, lording over us all. I glared up at it before we turned to another street. 

We pulled up outside our place in Brickston. Matt hopped out and went through the front door. I hefted the bag off my lap and followed him. We walked down the hall and into the apartment.  
“Crapshack, sweet crapshack,” I announced to the place and nearly tripped on some empty pizza boxes. Matt picked them up and rushed down the hall to throw them away. The DVD’s under the TV were in order. The coffee table and couch didn’t have  
anything on them, and I couldn’t smell any dishes in the kitchen. I probably saved the money I wired just for him. I tucked it under the bed before Dad saw it.  walked to our room and flopped down on the bed. Matt had gotten a new laptop while I was gone. 

“You didn’t have to clean like the Queen was visiting!”

Matt plodded into the room with his phone to his ear. He handed it to me. The screen displayed the number on my arm.

“I wasn’t going to call him, Matt!” I yelled and threw a pillow at him. He dodged and sat down next to me. 

The phone clicked. “I knew you couldn’t resist,” that obnoxious voice greeted.

“Hi,” I said coldly,” my brother called this number by accident. Goodbye.”

“Wait, wait!” He cried before I hung up, “I knew I was an ass on the plane, and I’m sorry, I really am. My name’s Mike Diego.”

“Mike Diego! You mean the wrestling guy?” Matt cried.

“Shut up, I’m talking!” I lifted my leg up and pinned him to the bed by his neck. I sighed, “I’m Serena, Serena Miller.”

“Great, listen I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to a party tonight.”

“A party? Did you mean my rape and possible murder?”  

“Hey, I’m not that bad. What’s the harm in taking a chance and having a little fun?” 

I looked at Matt, who nodded his head while smiling. I didn’t want to leave him by himself, 

“Alright. When and where?” 

“It’s tonight. You tell me where to pick you up.”

“Oh, can I met him, please?” Matt begged.

I took a quick glance around the room. If this guy caught sight of the building, he’d run back to whatever mansion he came from. “Sorry, he’s gonna pick me up somewhere else,” I said quietly.

“Oh,” he sighed, but picked right back up. “I need to make you look pretty!”

“I can meet you there,” I said quickly into the phone.

“No, no, where do you live?” He asked.

“Um,” I tried to think of an address, “I’m near Steelport University, can you meet me at the gates?.”

“Sure, I’ll be there after I drop my boys off.”

“Boys?”

He chuckled. “I’ll explain when I pick you up. I'm on my way now, look for the red car. And I’ll let your brother tell you who I am.” 

I hung up and sighed. “What an arse, and why did I let you talk me into it?” I glared at him.

“So you can get us acquainted with the rich people. Duh,” he rolled his eyes like it was the smartest thing he’d ever done. That was a good point though, if I could get this tool to give me money, I could get him and me out of here. 

I went to the closet and pulled out my only dress. It was a red cocktail, with a black silk scarf as a belt. Mom bought it for me the day I turned eighteen. “He’s not gonna be my sugar daddy after one date,” I chucked the hanger at him.

He caught it mid-air. “C’mon, you could use some fun.” 

I huffed and put on a long, black sweater-coat. “I need to go ask Dad, he’ll need to protect his precious daughter.” I peeked my head out of the door. “Hey, Dad?” 

“Yeah?” He walked down the hall. There was already a beer in his hand.

“Hey, I got invited to a party. Can I go?”

He huffed. “Bloody hell, you’re not even back an hour and you go running off? What’s more important than your welcoming dinner?”

Yeah, having to get Laughing Jack’s for me and Matt while you pass out on the couch sounds lovely. “Well, it was such short notice, and I’m already dressed. It’s going to be a little thing at…” Shit he didn’t tell me where it was. Matt said he was a wrestling guy… “a show downtown, a wrestling match.”  
“You like wrestling?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Of course! The guys in my squadron turned me on to it." That actually wasn’t a lie. The guys would talk forever about it, so I’d caught a few things. “It’s a match leading up to Murderbrawl, I gotta go, please!”

“Murderbrawl huh?” He rubbed his chin, then smiled, “Fine, you can go. Just bring me back something.” 

“Thank you,” I hugged him and sprinted back to the room. Matt gave me a thumbs up. I grabbed my black sunglasses and looked out the window. A red limo passed by, and I could see Mike in it. “Shit, that was quick,” I hissed. I needed to catch him. "Matt, be good," I called before sprinting to the door and downstairs. The truck turned a corner the second later. I started sprinting down the sidewalk, weaving between the mob of people.  

The gates were on the the next street, with the truck turning the corner to them.  I jumped into the street, clamored on top of a car and started leaping across. I cleared the gates and and rolled, crashing into some bushes. Tiny branches stabbed into my dress, but I shot up and kept going. 

The limo pulled up as soon as I stopped in front of the gate.  I brushed whatever leaves I could out of my hair before the door popped open.

“Hey,” Matt looked me up and down, “you look great.”

“Thanks,” I smiled and sat next to him. The car started up and headed downtown. 

“Glad you could get out of babysitting, you wouldn’t want to miss this match.”

“So your boys are fighting?”

“Yeah, my Pale Riders,” he grinned. 

“They any good?” 

“The best! The best anywhere!” He thumped his hand on my shoulder. 

“That’s great,” I leaned away and looked out the window, “I didn’t even have to lie about a wrestling match.”

He chuckled. “You seem like a smart lady. Someone I could use on my team. You said you’re in med school?”

“Yeah, I’m going to start clinical work after this summer.”

“Oh, so can you start now?” 

I looked at him, “It depends on what you mean.”

Our car stopped. “Never mind,” he opened the door, “I’ll tell you later.” 

Lights flashed outside of the entrance. Mike grabbed my arm and led us toward the doors. Crowds of people waited in lines at the ticket booths. We walked past them and went up a staircase.

“So where are we sitting?” I asked

His laugh boomed down the corridor. He grabbed a door, “Here.”

It was a private box. Lavish couches faced the glass wall that showed the arena. Lights accented the red and black scheme of the room.  A group of guys were clustered around the open bar, chatting with each other instead of watching the show.

I stepped to the bar and grabbed a bottle of beer out of the ice bucket. Some of the guys eyed me, but let me drift toward the window.

I popped the cap off and took a swig. Hey, I'll be 21 in a few months anyway. 

The announcer stepped into the ring and started working the crowd. Everyone in the stands were shouting for their favorite. Fights had already broken out before the actual tournament. 

"And now," the announcer roared, "the Pale Riders, Killbane and Angel de la Muerte!" 

Two men burst out of the tunnel and jumped into the ring. One clad in purple and yellow, the other green and red, strutted to the center of the ring. The man in purple looked toward the box, and his mask could not hide his sharp gaze. I took off my  
glasses to keep sight of him.

He grinned, then turned to a fighter charging into the ring. The man in red picked him up by his neck and threw him into the stands. More stormed in, but the team took them on like kings of the hill. 

The door opened. I could hear the guys greet them, but the match was too interesting to look away from. The chatter declined and a scoff reached me. 

Two people in high heels clicked toward me and stopped. A shot exploded behind me, making me whip toward it. Two women, twins, and an older man stood behind the couch. The man’s face was lined with wrinkles, but his gaze was sharp. The woman on his left was holding up a pistol. “Well you’re not deaf, you reacted, so you must be stupid,” she sneered. 

My fist clenched, but I took a deep breath. “My apologies,” I bowed slightly, “I’m not normally this rude.”

The man spoke in a thick accent, probably European, “Apology accepted. I am Phillipe Loren.” He gestured to the woman in white sunglasses on the left, “This is Viola,” he gestured to the woman with pink sunglasses his right, “and Kiki.” They approached, and 

Kiki departed from his side to join mine. “Well, your outfit matched the color scheme, so you can’t be too stupid,” she said softly. 

That gave me the warm fuzzies for some weird reason. “Lucky guess,” I shrugged, “and I’m genuinely sorry. But the match was too good to look away from.”

“It is,” Philippe interjected. His expression suddenly changed. "Oh dear." 

I looked back to the match. I saw the man in green take a swing to the legs and the man in purple get thrown out of the ring. The strike put him on his knees, causing the fighters to swarm on him. 

Mike walked to the window and slammed his fist into it. “God dammit guys, win,” he growled.”

“You’ll need a medic,” Philippe said calmly. 

Mike nodded toward me, “Why do you think I brought her?”

“Her?” Viola demanded.

Mike grabbed my arm and started dragged me out. We started walking down a corridor, toward the back of the stadium.

“That why you brought me isn’t it?” I asked.

“He kept walking briskly, “I was actually going to ask you after the match if you would join the team as a doctor.” 

“What?” The news hit me like a piledriver. I couldn’t leave Matt at home with Dad. “I don’t have a degree.”

“That’s the great thing about it, we only need someone with medical training, the extent of it doesn't matter. Hell we could hire a lifeguard, as long as they could kept those two alive. Plus your wages wouldn't be anything to scoff at.”

Static crackled through the speakers, but we could hear the words. “And the winners are The Pale Riders!”

“Yes!” Mike pumped his fist, smiling. “That’a boys!”

Happiness surged through me. They won, they were the champions! I let Mike lead me down several stairwells, and into a darkened corridor. It came to a locker room, with two cots set up against the wall. 

Mike stopped me, "I know your shaky about taking the job, but it would be a huge favor to me if  you could help these guys."

That money could get me and Matt out of the house. We could be happy, finally. "I'll do it," I said firmly. 

Mike's face broke into a smile. "Welcome to the team, then." 

I smiled and started walking toward the cots. The two had been laid down on them, Killbane on the left and Angel on the right. 

Killbane groaned, "Bro, did we win?" 

Angel's eyes cracked opened, "Yeah, I think we did." 

They gave each other a weak fist bump and slumped back into the cots. Bruises were plastered all over their bodies, some already purple. Gashes on Killbane were bleeding freely, mainly from multiple leg fractures. Angel was breathing too hard and fast, most  
likely broken ribs. 

I stopped in front of them, they froze in place and stared at me like I was one of God's angels.  I pulled a spool of bandages out of my pocket. There were only a few bits left. 

Angel tried to sit up. I rushed over and gently pushed him back onto the bed. "Did we win?" 

"Yes," I smiled. Killbane hadn't made a sound since he saw me. 

Angel relaxed, but coiled up in pain after he took a breath. 

I wanted to conserve what few bandages I had left, so I took the scarf off my dress and started wrapping it around him. He groaned, but managed to hold himself up. Sweat and blood dripped down his bare chest. My fingers brushed through it and over the  
tattoo of his name, bold against tan skin. He sighed, then started panting again. 

I looked around while I worked. There wasn't any equipment besides the cots, only a small red box sat on the floor. I hoped it would be enough for Killbane's broken legs. I finished with Angel, then opened the box. 

"Crap." There was nothing but a small pile of Oxy pills and a few syringes filled with steroids. I grabbed a pill and put it in Angel's mouth.  

"Hey girl," someone said behind me. I turned. Two guys, one with a camera and one with a notepad, glared at me. "Can you stop fussing over those two and get out of my picture?" 

I sneered, but consented. The two made my patients hold up the belt. Angel winced in pain from a broken hand. They snapped their pictures and then they left. I stepped over to Killbane. 

"What an ass," he said when the photographer was gone. I smirked and handed Killbane a pill. There was only a few more bits of bandage left, so I started with the worst fracture. He clenched his teeth and hissed, "So you gotta name?" 

"Serena," I said softly. 

He smiled and let himself fall back on the bed. His wrappings were done. I stepped back over to Angel. He was asleep on his back and was gripping the scarf with one hand. It made me smile.

Mike was waiting at the door. I marched up to him. "I'll take the job, but you need to get me some fucking bandages."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here's another chapter of Run With the Shadows. If you're wondering when I'll add new chapters, judging by how long it took to make these two chapters readable, I'll update every week or two. Reviews and criticism is always welcome. I hope you guys will like the new chapter and stick around for more!
> 
> Disclaimer: Saints Row and all of it's material are owned and copyrighted by Volition. Original characters and ideas are the author's intellectual property and are not to be used without explicit permission.

"Matt, I'm home!" I stumbled in the door and to our room. Dad was passed out on the couch, pistol in his hand. The three beers I chugged were taking their toll, everything seemed light and airy. My mind kept flashing back to Angel and how good he looked

"I'm in here!" Matt called tentatively. I stepped into the room. He was hunched over his computer, typing away madly.

"What're ya doing?" I stepped up behind him and looked over his shoulder. Code was flashing in little green specks against a black screen. A window popped up, reading firewall breached in red capital letters. "Matt!" I yelled and shot my arm toward the computer.

He yanked himself away and typed even faster, muttering under his breath.

"What are you doing?" I got on the bed and slammed my hand on the top of the computer.

"It's a game!" He yelled. "It's a hacker game!"

I sighed and flopped onto my bed, "Fine, I don't have enough energy to care." I started taking off my knee-high, black boots.

He sat up and put his hands in his lap, "Sis, can I tell you something without you getting mad?"

"Did you kill someone?"

"No!"

"Did you join a gang?" I sat up to look at him face to face.

"No."

"Then shoot."

"I started one…" He shied away from me.

The news hit like a bomb. My spirits fell. He shouldn't be doing crap like that while he was still a kid. "Matt," I started.

"Look, just hear me out!" He placed his computer on his lap. "I get good money doing this, and that money can get us out of here."

I stepped to the bed where he was cowering. "Matt, I'm getting a job with The Pale Riders, you don't need to do this."

He glared, "So you're leaving me again?"

"I've looked after you since you were born, so you know I wouldn't leave you if I didn't have to," I grabbed his shoulder, "If you let me do this, I won't leave ever again."

He wavered for a long moment but then spoke softly, "Never?"

"I swear to God."

He glanced around for a moment before looking back to me, "Okay."

"Do you swear not to get in trouble in the meantime?"

"Yeah," he bowed his head and put his computer to the side.

Tiredness swept over my body, persuading me to lay on the bed and sling a blanket over myself. "Night, Matt."

It seemed like five minutes before my phone started ringing. My eyes opened to the bright light on the nightstand. "Hello?" I picked up.

"Hey," it was Mike, "you still wanna do this?"

"Yeah," I murmured and sat up. Matt was still asleep, hugging his pillow. "When are we leaving?"

"Today, our flight's in two hours."

Jesus, that was quick. "Is it your habit to give everyone such short notice?"

"Well, keep up and you won't have to worry. See you then." The line clicked off.

Matt sat up and rubbed his eyes, "So you're leaving soon?"

"Yeah, not too much time."

He dropped a little bit, "So what are we going to tell Dad?"

That would be tricky, he'd probably take his loss out on Matt, maybe even kill him. "I need to take blame away from you, so you can't be faulted for what I did," I pondered for a moment, and came up with a cover that Matt wouldn't be involved in, "I fell in love with a man there, we ran away together and will never come back. Tell him that if he interrogates you."

He nodded. "But will you for real?"

"God no, I'll probably find someone at med school, have an uneasy marriage that will be eventually torn apart, then be bitterly divorced for the rest of my life. And maybe be a cat lady, I don't know," I chirped.

He glared at me, "Wow Serena, I wish I was as optimistic like you."

"You should. Life's better if you think that way." I pulled all of my clothes out of the closet and packed them in my bag. They would last a week, two if I kept them clean. Some of my textbooks went in too, they'd be good to have if something went wrong on the job. My dog tags glinted from their spot under my old clothes. I picked them up and slipped the chain over my head. The cold metal's presence felt good, assurance that I could kick ass.

"Maybe more realistic, but not happy."

"Well, predators tend to prey on the happy, it's a shame," I pouted and walked to the closet. A few gun cases were hidden behind Matt's clothes. "Matt," I growled.

He put his hands up in defense, "I'm just holding onto them for someone."

"Sure," I yanked out a red shirt, jeans, black jacket, I'd keep the boots from last night. I peeled off my dress and threw it in Matt's face. He kept it over his eyes until I was done changing. "I'm driving."

"No, I am," Matt was in his blue shirt and jeans.

"You're fifteen, there's no way you can!"

"Do you want Dad to drive us?"

A heavy feeling settled in my chest. "Fine," I threw him the keys on the nightstand, "just don't kill us."

We walked out of our room and tiptoed past Dad's open door. He was snoring away atop the king sized bed next to a hooker he must've got last night. Mom would've had a heart attack if she saw the beer cans lining the floor, stains on every surface in the room, and used condoms piled up in the trash can.

Matt sighed, "I'm going to have to clean all that later."

"Don't worry," I whispered, "he can learn to clean his own room if his teenage son already knows how to keep house." When we reached the door, I opened it for Matt and shut it quietly.

"Yeah, I'm a regular Mary Poppins," he chuckled.

"Girls like that. Trust me Matt, once you get hot, you'll get a good woman."

"Once I get hot?" he asked, "Like I'm already not?"

"You look like a prepubescent John Lennon that walked through a Goth mosh pit."

"Thank you."

We went out the door and into our car. As Matt started the car, I looked out at the busy street. "You sure you're gonna be okay?" I asked nervously.

"I'll be fine," Matt replied calmly as he started pulling out.

"Stop!" I yelled as a car whizzed by us. "You will not be fine!"

"I will be!" Matt gunned out of our parking space and into the lane of traffic.

"I don't think your feet can reach the pedals!" Matt was leaning forward over the wheel pretty far, guaranteeing his death if we crashed.

"I'm fine!" We lurched down the street, I didn't even think you could lurch in an automatic car. We kept getting closer and closer to the opposite lane.

"You do realize we're not in England?!" I yelled and jerked the wheel so we were going straight for once.

"I know that!" He yelled and slammed on the brakes. My whole body flew forward and was stopped roughly by the seat belt.

"Why did you do that?"

"We're at a bloody stoplight, that's why!"

I looked forward and spied a red light in front of the car we'd stopped centimeters behind. "Never mind…"

He groaned and accelerated when the car ahead did. "At least I'm trying to keep distance between the other cars."

I took a deep breath and tried to calm down, "You are, you are."

He snickered, "Why are you freaking out so bad?"

"I'm not freaking out," I crossed my arms and resisted the urge to grab the wheel again, "I'm just nervous."

"About what, my driving or your job?"

"Both," I said bluntly, "I'm scared I'll get hurt here or there."

"You aren't gonna get hurt, I won't let that happen."

I snorted, "You won't let that happen? Do you think you're James Bond or something?"

"No," he glanced at me, "I just won't let you get hurt." He made the car decelerate so it wouldn't go into the next lane as we turned into the airport's entrance.

My hand was shredded into the strap of the duffel bag. "Don't drive again," I growled through clenched teeth.

"I won't," he parked and got out.

I followed him inside and looked around for anyone familiar. "Crap, he didn't say where to go."

Someone grabbed my shoulder from behind. "Glad you could make it," Mike spoke.

I jumped and turned to face him. "Glad I wasn't late," I nodded towards my brother, "this is Matt."

"Oh yeah, the guy who knew me," Mike reached into his pocket and handed him an autographed picture of the Pale Riders, "Serena said you wanted an autograph."

"Thanks," Matt pocketed it and smiled, "that'll sell good on Ebay."

Mike grimaced, but regained composure. "Glad to hear it, our ride's this way." He turned and started walking into the airport.

We followed closely, trying not to get separated in the crowd. "Where's our stop?" Matt asked when we passed all of the terminals.

"Up ahead." We went through an exit and walked onto the airstrip. A plane sat on the runway.

"That's ours?" A private plane?

"Yep."

I turned to face Matt, "You gonna be alright."

He stepped up and hugged me, "Yeah."

"You sure?" You won't be hurt, was the unspoken part. I squeezed him hard.

"I'll manage, go have fun." Matt was acting like the parent instead of me, telling me to have a good time. It broke my heart.

I sighed, "Don't let Dad hit you too much."

"I won't."

I let go, "See ya."

"See ya," he nodded.

I turned and followed Mike to the plane. He was shaking his head, "Hope Dad doesn't hit you too much? Jesus, no wonder you took this job."

"Yeah, daddy issues are really motivators," I deadpanned, "I'm just worried about Matt."

"Don't worry about it." He looked to me, "I tell you what, if he calls up about your dad beating him, I'll send Eddie and Angel to kick his ass."

The thought made me grin from ear to ear, "Thanks."

We stepped up the stairs into the plane. It only had ten seats, but it had leather seats and an open bar in the back, it probably cost more then the plane I'd arrived on. Angel and Killbane were in their seats, their workout clothes were the same colors as their show outfits. Mike got into a seat in front of Killbane.

Angel reached into his hoodie pocket and held up my scarf. "You forgot this last night," a smile crossed his smooth face and reached his eyes.

"Thanks," I grabbed it and wrapped it around my neck.

The plane started up suddenly, making me jerk forward. I swung into the seat behind Angel and strapped myself in.

"Please don't get hurt right away," Angel remarked.

"I'll try."

The plane ascended for a few more minutes, until the seat belt lights on the overhead went out. Mike got up and stood between the two wrestlers. "So my boys, are we gonna win tonight?"

"Hell yeah," they both replied.

Mike looked to me, "We gonna win tonight?" The two looked back to me expectantly, they wanted me to be a part of their team.

"Hell yeah," I nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and make sure to review and kudos if you liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

Our plane touched down in Juarez, Mexico just as the sun was setting. We all loaded out and headed to a car Mike had rented.

“So does all your crew travel with you?” I asked. There hadn’t been anyone else traveling with us so far, did they have other people?

“We are our crew,” Mike stated, “we just needed another person because medics became required this season.”

Killbane spoke up. “Yeah, the federation said they’re going to do something with you guys, but we don’t know what.”

“We’ll hear it at the conference before the match,” Angel supplied.

We all reached the car and piled in. I took the front seat and the wrestlers took the back. Mike got behind the wheel.

“So you guys don’t have drivers?” I questioned.

“What, a jet not good enough for you? The Pale Riders make money, but not enough to have both.”

"We'll get that good," I smiled. 

The rest of the drive was spent in silence until we got to the stadium. Paparazzi and fans were swarming outside the entrance. Angel and Killbane exited first to the screaming masses, I slipped out of the car and let myself be blinded by the flashing cameras.   
Angel took my arm and hurried us inside. We went through the lobby and into the ballroom the press conference would be held in. There were rows of chairs in front of a makeshift stage. Reporters were trying to talk to some of the wrestlers scattered in   
groups, but were all were turned away. All the wrestlers were dressed normally except for their masks. 

I was the only person under 150 pounds and one of the ten chicks out of a hundred guys. Angel steered us to sit down. The guy next to us was in a red getup, everything from his mask to boots were varying shades of blood red. Mad Mangler, he was one of   
the guys I kept hearing about on tour.

“Hey,” I said over a man in front chattering obnoxiously on his cellphone. 

“Hey,” he replied before starting to chat with Killbane. 

The guy in front started leaning his chair back so far I had to shoot my leg up to keep from being squashed. “Do you fucking mind?” I barked.

The group went silent as the guy turned in his seat. He glared at me through his mask, which was blue like a doctor’s face mask. A stethoscope was around his neck to complete the look. He clicked his phone closed with his massive, but wrinkled fingers. “Do   
you know who you’re barking at, little girl?” He spat through crooked teeth and shriveled lips. 

“No. Enlighten me, old man.” 

“I’m Doctor Slaughter,” he looked me over the same way one would ogle a stripper, “and I hope you’re one of the newbies.”

“I am,” I grinned, “But tell me something, did you even go to med school?”

He hesitated for a moment. 

“Well then Mister Slaughter, you have no right to go around calling people little girl.”

He twitched like it took all his strength not to pulverize me. “Well Angel,” he snickered, “it seems you find a spicy one to kiss your boo-boos. Is she your whore already?”

Angel shot up so fast that Mad Mangler and Killbane could barely grab him in time. Mad Mangler tried to reason with him. 

I glared daggers at the instigator. “I’m not his whore, “ I spat, “and I should take that stupid stethoscope and-”

He turned mid-sentence and turned down his hearing aid, but not before scooting his chair back enough to slam into my knees.

I growled and drew my hand back. Mike appeared next to me and looked at all of us, “Geez kids, what’d I miss?”

“Doc Slaughter being an ass, as usual,” Killbane supplied.

Mike sighed at my anger, “Don’t let him get to you Serena, he just a warm up.” 

“Goodie,” I sighed as a man stepped up to the podium on stage. It was Phillipe Loren!

“Ladies, gentlemen, members of the press” he started in his French accent, “you may notice that each of our tag teams has gained an extra member. May those new members please come to the stage?”

Me and some beefy guys stood up, Doc stood up last. I cursed my luck inwardly as I strided up. We all got in line behind him, my arms went to my sides instinctively. I resisted the urge to go full soldier.

Philippe continued. “There will now be two fights to every match, one by luchadors and one by medics,” he turned to us and started clapping.

Chaos erupted while Philippe continued his speech. Mike started swearing so violently the Devil himself must’ve cringed, Killbane put his head in his hands, and Angel went white as a ghost. I stood out like a David amongst Goliaths. Murrmurrs passed through the crowd as people got a look at me. The line of fighters took snide glances at me, dismissing me as an opponent.

Doc leaned in close to me. “Don’t worry,” he cooed mockingly, “you’ll like what I’ll do to you.” 

“Can I get a couple feet of personal space?” I hissed. I could handle being mocked by a crowd, but I would not be dominated by a perverted old man. 

He squared his body so he was taking up even more space. “And what are you going to do if I don’t?”

The rage that was in me cooled. I smiled sweetly before slamming my knee into his dick. He curled up involuntarily, allowing me to kick him off the stage. Fighters looked away slowly, but the reporters increased their attentions on me. An urge to speak arose, but I kept silent. 

“Thank you,” Phillipe finished. We all walked back to our seats. 

“This is gonna be fun,” I commented to the three. They stared at me like I’d spoke in tongues.

“You’re calm for someone facing imminent defeat,” Mike groaned.

I shrugged. “Aren’t these fights fake anyway?” 

“We aren’t Americans,” Angel said sharply, “And if you keep that happy-go-lucky attitude you’ll be slaughtered, literally.”

“Well then I’ll train and not get slaughtered.” It wouldn't be too hard to learn how to suplex a guy. 

“I’ll train you,” he said with finality. 

Mike looked between us both. “Angel can train, and train good, anyone can see that. Being with him is your best shot.”

My will wavered. I didn't like having to rely on anyone if I could get away with it, but I didn’t know how to wrestle, and Angel did. I sighed, “What kind of training did you have in mind?” 

“Well you already did the first exercise. Go up to a guy, attack him, and see what happens.”

“That's the first? What's the rest?" 

"You'll be in for worse," Killbane informed. 

With that happy note, the three got up and we started walking out. Mike went to go get our car in the lot while we waited at the entrance.   
A man walked up and stood next to us. "That was pretty ballsy of you to do that to Doc." 

I turned to him. His mask was white with a black spider web design accenting it. "I told him to move and he didn't. He wasn't about to get away with being rude." 

He laughed, "Yeah, he's like that. He's upset he has to be on the medic side, so he's gonna take it out on you." 

"That's no excuse to be an asshole."

"Well he's going to go extra hard on you guys, and he's old but he can whoop serious ass." 

"Great," I rolled my eyes, "I already have one enemy on the first day."

He grinned slightly. "I can help you out if you want." 

"I've got it, Sway," Angel glared. 

Sway backed away a little bit. "Alright," he looked back to me, "but ask me if you need it." 

The car pulled up in front of us. "Thanks," I smiled before stepping inside. Angel and Killbane got in and slammed the doors. 

"Jealous, Angel?” I sneered.

“Don’t take advice from rivals.” 

I rolled my eyes and focused on the road. Killbane and Mike sat in awkward silence the whole way to the hotel. The trip to our rooms ended with me slamming the door to mine. It wasn't a Hilton room, but the two beds, bathroom, and nightstand were clean enough. It was better than my house. I let me and my bag drop to the closest bed. 

Someone knocked on the door. I got up and opened it. Angel was holding his bag and was staring at me, hopefully? "Hey, Mike and Eddie insisted on being the same room, and you have a spare bed, so maybe I could..." 

I groaned and stepped aside. "Just don't be a pervert." 

He grinned and walked in. I stepped into the bathroom so he could get past.

"Mike picked up your outfit, too." Angel reached into his bag and pulled out a bundle. 

I took it from him and unfolded it. It was a red and white spandex bikini, with a boob window in the top and a red cross over the crotch on the bottom. White pixie boots provided the most coverage of any item there. "You've got to be kidding," I growled. 

"It'll please the crowd," Angel commented. 

I walked away and slammed the door to the bathroom. "Here goes my dignity," I sighed and started peeling off my clothes. My shirt and pants were replaced by the spandex, leaving me with the black coat to cover myself up. I slipped the boots on and stepped outside. Angel was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in his outfit. 

"Nice," he said slowly as he eyed me. 

It made me blush a little. "Thanks." 

He pushed himself up, "You want to train?" 

"Yeah," I tensed up and pulled myself into a fighting stance. 

He chuckled, "Relax, I just want to show you something." 

I went back to standing normally. Angel suddenly scowled, then shot forward. I was slammed to the floor before I could remember what happened. "Never do what your opponents tell you," he barked, "If they try to keep you out of the ring, fight like hell to get in. If they tell you to surrender, don't. If they beg for mercy, be merciless. At the end of the day, they want to win. So you need to want it more." He offered his hand to help me up. 

I grabbed it, then slammed my foot into his legs. He let himself be pulled to his knees. 

"Nice," he breathed and got to his feet. 

"We ready to go?" 

“Yeah, Eddie and Mike are going to be waiting out front.” 

“Let’s go, then.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here's an update just on time.   
> Disclaimer: I do not own Saint's Row or it's related material. Original characters and ideas are my intellectual property

We’d been travelling for miles until we got to a blocked off road. A crowd of people were   
gathered around it, pick-up trucks were lined up at the starting line. Our group made our way   
there and waited with the other wrestlers. An announcer stood at the start. 

“So where do we fight?” I whispered to Angel.

“On the trucks. A pair from each team goes against each other until one team or man is left standing.”

“So two fight in the back and two fight in the cab?”

“While someone’s driving.”

“Wow, this is gonna be interesting.”

Mike walked up behind us. “Serena and Angel are in the green car,” he nodded toward the last car in the lineup, “going up against Mad Mangler and his medic.”

“That’s not too bad,” I stated.

Mike laughed without joy. “Let me know how that turns out.”

We started walking toward the car. Angel hopped in the cab, and Mad Mangler climbed in on the other side. I stood in front while the announcer made his way down the line. He came in front of our car. “In the last car is Mad Mangler versus Angel de la Muerte, and Blue Demon versus The Candy Striper!”

The Candy Striper? I’m gonna kill Mike for naming me that. I turned stiffly and got in the driver’s seat, praying no one saw me blush in embarrassment. The  Blue Demon got in the car and slammed the door. He snorted, “This will be too easy.”

I answered by slamming on the gas. The car started gunning down the road. A few wrestlers were already thrown out of their cars, forcing me to swerve around them. 

Demon got his arm around my throat, making my head and neck spasm. I started throwing elbows, slamming into his face. 

“I’ll destroy you, little girl,” he growled and tightened his grip, making my head and chest burn like fire. He grabbed onto the wheel and tried to jerk it from me, making me body-slam into him. He crashed into the passenger door. I used my left leg on the pedals and started kicking him violently with the right. 

A loud crack sounded from the back. I looked to see Mangler looming over Angel. Demon growled and pushed himself up, hooking his hand into the door handle. I raised my leg one last time. “Sorry.” The final lash sent him tumbling out of the car and into the guardrail. 

Another crack sounded. I swerved the car to the right, sending Mad Mangler flying off the side. Angel roared and threw his hands up, making me grin. He saw me and returned it. I stopped as the car crossed the finish line. 

I jumped out of the car and helped Angel climb out. He gestured to the crowd, making them scream in excitement. I blew them a kiss to add to it, it egged them on even more. Angel put his hand on my back and led us toward Mike and Killbane. 

"That was awesome," I breathed. 

"Glad you had fun," Mike stated, "but you have to train for the real fights." 

"Well let's go," I shrugged. We made our way through the crowd and back to the car. 

“That was awesome,” Killbane commented. 

It made me smile. “Thanks.”

Our trip back to the hotel was fast. When we got to the lobby, I started to head to my room, but Angel grabbed my arm. “I’m going to train you, remember?”

“Wait, now?” I yanked back.

“Yes, now,” he replied as he yanked me toward the hotel's gym. There was a roll of duct tape laying at the other end of the mat on the floor. 

I stepped onto it with Angel following. We assumed fighting stance. 

Angel charged and crouched to grab me around the waist. I stepped out of the way and stuck my leg out, sending him falling.   
I sprinted to him, jumped, and crashed my legs into his head. 

He pushed up and grabbed the duct tape. I tried scooting back before he got my legs pinned under his. He started wrapping tape around my legs until they were bound together. 

I writhed under him, trying to keep away. My arms kept whipping around, punching him in the face and keeping out of his grip. They got pinned in his grip, then by duct tape. 

He hefted me over his shoulders and carried me towards the pool. I writhed around, "What the fuck are you doing?!"   
      
He threw me off him, sending me flying into the water. My screams escaped in bubbles as I sank deeper and deeper with my legs kicking around uselessly. The walls of the pool swirled around me. Angel crouched at the surface and stuck his hand in the water. Chlorine stun my throat, adding to the burning feeling in my chest. My lungs would explode if I stayed down here any longer. I swung my arms toward his hand and let him grab me. He lifted me onto the pool deck. 

"Why did you just try to kill me?" I yelled. 

"If I tried to kill you, I wouldn't have offered my hand," Angel reasoned. 

I hacked up some water I swallowed, adding to the raw feeling in my throat. "So why did you do that?" 

“I told you to not trust your enemies, so I needed to show you how to trust your team." 

"Yeah I should trust the guy who threw me in the pool," I wiped my mouth and stood up, "and I think I could've figured out how to trust." 

He shook his head, then stared at me firmly, "You wouldn't've, not with your personality. You would rather die than ask for help." 

"True enough," I sighed, "but that was pretty fucking demented."  
     
"You've survived worse." 

"Also true," I sighed. My dad would do shit like that to me and Matt. Whenever we went to the beach, we would learn to swim by him throwing us off the dock and seeing what happened. One time, he threw Matt and he didn't come back up. I had to get him, and thank God I was so studious in first aid, or he would've died. "I guess stuff like this made me want to be a doctor." 

"To help people?" 

"Yeah, I wanted to be someone giving help instead of asking for it." 

He smiled a little bit, "That's really cool." 

I grinned back, "Thanks." 

We walked to our room and got onto our beds. Angel's phone buzzed in his bag, so I reached in and threw it to him. 

"Yeah?" He answered. A long string of dialogue sounded. "Yeah Dad, we won." Another pause. "No Dad, we don't get to Tijuana for a few more matches." The voice picked up and started yelling over the phone, making Angel hold it away from his ear. "Dad, I can't get there because I can't get there!" I could hear Spanish curse words from five feet away. "Dad, I'm making less money here than at the hacienda so it's not that." His dad kept yelling. "I'm not trying to keep away from you!" 

The line clicked off. Angel huffed and threw it into his bag, then turned on his side away from me. "Fucking daddy issues," he grumbled.

"So he thinks you're trying to get away?" I asked. 

He sighed, "Yeah. Ever since I started wrestling professionally, he's convinced I'm never coming back." 

"I know you would. You wouldn't be the type of guy to abandon his family." 

He turned back to me. "Thanks," he smiled, "I know you wouldn't abandon yours either." 

"No I wouldn't, Matt's pretty much all I have." 

"So your mom and dad aren't around?" 

"My dad is, but my mom died when I was a kid." 

"Sorry," he said quickly, trying to get away from the subject, "so did your dad react the same way mine did?" 

"I don't know." Guilt from leaving Matt settled in my mind, making me pick up my phone, "I hope Matt's okay." 

"He'll be alright, you’ve only been gone a day.”

    The line buzzed until it clicked. “Hello?” Matt whispered.

    “Matt, are you alright.” 

    “Yeah,” he coughed, “I’m okay.”

    “So Dad hasn’t hit you?” 

    “Not more than usual. Are you okay, you sound worried?”

    “Yeah, I’m fine.” Bruises I hadn’t noticed before decided just then to start aching. I rubbed at them and chirped away. “I won my first match.”

    “I knew you would, you have a good team. Have you trained yet?”

    I snorted, “Yeah, I’ve trained.”

    “Good.”

    Matt’s voice picked up, then started yelling, mixed in with slamming and banging. “Matt!” I screamed before it all stopped. 

    “Serena,” my dad growled.

    “Stop hurting Matt!” Panic started to overtake me, if he hurt Matt I'd never forgive myself."   
      
“I’ll hurt him as I damn well please. He needs to toughen up anyway, stop being such a pussy," he slurred, drunk already. 

I hissed, "Why are you calling?" 

"I'm calling to let you know that if I ever see your slutty ass in my house again, I'll kill you and the man whore you ran off with." Matt was groaning in the background and was cut off with a boom. "Shut up!" He yelled, then sighed , "Why did you run off, Serena. What did I do to deserve this?" 

Anger stabbed itself through my mind, my heart, making everything a bloody red. "You beat us, that's why. You demeaned us, you tortured us, you abused us. I will be coming back for Matt and you will not see either of us again." 

The air hung with tension for a few brief moments.  "Is that so?" A gun cocked, "Be a good girl and come back, or Matt gets his head blown off." 

"Sis!" Matt screamed in the background. 

Dread filled my mind, bringing all my thoughts to a dreadful numbness, leaving only defeat to crumble what was left. "Don't hurt him," I sighed, "I'll come back." 

Angel ripped the phone out of my hand. His voice chilled my blood, "This is the man your daughter ran off with. If you hurt her little brother, I will find you and put you through everything you've done to them," his voice picked up," How I finish you will earn me the name Angel de la Muerte!" 

Silence followed his outburst, ending with the line clicking off. Tears started to run down my face, “He’s dead…” Dad would kill him now, just to spite me, I know he would. 

Angel lifted his hand toward me, “Serena I-”

“You killed him!” I screamed and slashed at his hand, “he’s going to die now because of you!” I had to bury my hands into the bed to keep myself up, “He’ll kill him.”

He scooted forward a little bit and wrapped his arms around my waist. I let myself fall forward and sob into his chest. “He won’t kill him, he needs him as leverage so he can get you back. It’s what abusers do.”

“That’s true,” I said softly, “he’ll keep trying, like yours.”

He scoffed, “For once, my dad isn’t the worst one in the world.”

“Yeah,” I wiped my face, “it’s kinda hard to top that.” 

He grinned, “Wanna get a drink?”

“Sure,” I sniffed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos if you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

The sports bar was filling up steadily after the match. All of the wrestlers were staying in hotels nearby, so all of them were out celebrating their wins or drowning their sorrows with cheap booze and girls. Angel shoved through the crowd of guys screaming at a soccer game on the flat screen TV and got on a bar stool. I followed his warpath and got on mine, being wedged between the counter and the men. Angel grabbed a leg of my stool and pulled me closer, freeing me from the crush of the crowd.   
"Thanks," I turned to the counter. 

The bartender walked up to Angel. "Yeah I'll have a Jack Daniels and," he turned to me to complete his order. "A Jack Daniels also." 

The man grabbed two bottles from the counter and put them in front of us. I cracked the top off and let it's cold numb my insides. 

"Good?" Angel looked to me. 

"Yeah, thanks for taking me out." 

Silence followed for a few, awkward moments. I spoke up, "It seems like you know a lot about abuse from the way you helped me back there. It was like you were the doctor instead of me." 

He shrugged, "I've seen it happen to a lot of people.”

“Not personally, I hope?” Had he been abused as a kid, is that why he was here?

“No, no. Dad’s not like that. He and Mama were both good parents.”

“Oh, so you had both parents." 

"Yeah, a few brothers and sisters too. It was real fun being the second child.”

“They tend to be ignored, so no wonder you chose a place where you would get attention.” 

“I chose this job because I was good at it,” he took a swig of his bottle. Angel got up suddenly and started walking away, must've need to take a piss or something. I looked up at the soccer game on TV, it was the Olympics, with Mexico's team playing UK's. All the men were screaming their support for Mexico, even though they were losing by 6 points. "C'mon UK," I mumbled. 

One of the guys, still dressed in a factory worker's uniform, turned to me and glared, "You mean go Mexico, right?" 

"I mean go UK," my accent started coming out with a hardened edge. Normally it would be unnoticeable, but now everyone could hear the British tone. 

He was slurring, "Eurotrash... If you wanna root with all the other conquistadors, go back to your own country." 

I could see Angel in the corner of my eye storming up to Killbane. He was looming over an woman who was getting more and more aggravated by the second. Another man beat Angel to him and started yelling at him. "Fuck," I muttered. 

The drunk grabbed me by my arms and slammed me back into the counter. "The fuck did you say to me?!" 

I grabbed the bottle and slammed it into his head, splattering his group of friends with beer. They whipped around while one picked up a bottle. I threw my chair at him and knocked over two of the ten standing. The man I hit stumbled back up and threw a punch, making me tackle a man at my side to avoid it. He slammed into a woman so her male companion started fighting them. I picked up another chair and bashed him over the head with it. Soon, everyone in the bar was fighting each other. I looked around trying to find Angel and Killbane. Someone roared behind me. I swerved around the man, jumped up, and wrapped my legs around his neck. Killbane and Angel were fighting their way through the crowd. I jumped off and scampered toward them.   
"We need to get out of here!" I screamed. 

Angel nodded and started making a path toward the doors. We kept pushing through the riot until we made it to the sidewalk. 

Angel tried to catch his breath, "How the fuck did that happen?" 

"It was kind of my fault," I said quietly. 

They both glared at me, "What did you do?" 

"I cheered for UK. But what were you doing?" I turned to Killbane. 

"He was hitting on Blue Demon's wife," Angel spat and reached into his pocket, "But you're both idiots. So let's get home before we-" He stopped and started searching all of his pockets. 

"What's wrong?" 

He groaned and motioned toward the bar, "My wallet's in there." 

"Looks like we walk." Killbane rumbled. 

"Looks like." 

We started walking back to the hotel. Angel kept ahead of us, fuming. “Is he always like that?” I whispered to Killbane.

“Yeah. He’s way too high strung.”

“I can hear you know,” Angel stated.

We shrank back like naughty children and kept quiet for the rest of the walk. Killbane went up to his room when we arrived, leaving me and Angel in awkward silence. I sighed, “I’m sorry, okay?”

“No you’re not,” he growled.

“It was a mistake, why are you being so fucking uptight about it?”

He turned to me and glared, “The guys we fought will want revenge. So now, they’ll be out for blood more they than they already were.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of wrestling?” I spat back.

“What happens in the ring stays in the ring. But if it becomes personal, you make enemies you don’t need to make.”

I sighed at his scolding, “You’re right.”

He looked at me for a moment before turning around, “Head up, I’ll be in the gym.”

I turned and walked up to the room in silence, flopping on the bed when I arrived. Sleep started to grip me. My body relaxed into the mattress and caused my eyes to close. My body stayed in a dreamless void until a pain lanced up my spine. Angel stood over me holding a lamp. “Wake up.”

I mewed like a kitten and wiggled more under the soft, warm sheets. He grabbed my legs and tore me out. “Our match is in a couple hours.”

“How long was I asleep?” I got up and stretched. Dried blood kept the wrestling outfit glued to me “A while. Mike thought you were dead.”

“I only look as ugly as the dead right now.” I scraped at the blood, praying none of it was mine.

Angel grinned at that, “Nah, you clean up good.”

“Thanks.”  
He left me to get ready. I grabbed a brush from the nightstand and ran it through my ratty hair. No time for a shower, so I grabbed some wipes from my bag and rubbed them over myself. 

The hallway was quiet as I stepped over to the next room. Mike, Angel, and Killbane emerged and started walking to the lobby. 

The car sat idling at the entrance. We got in and started heading to the stadium. 

Mike was the only one to speak, "Win this one." 

The rest of the trip was spent in silence until we arrived. A crowd had assembled outside the back entrance. We hustled through the crowd and inside, toward the entry to the ring. It was like a tunnel in the Temple of Doom. 

"You're sure we won't die?" 

"I'm sure," Angel stated, "just go hard and fast." 

"I can manage that," I shrugged and faced the pit from the tunnel we were in. It was the size of four wrestling rings put together, with tunnels other wrestlers were peering out of. Announcers droned on loudly, amping the crowd up for the fight.   
The siren buzzed, making us all rush in. Angel and Killbane spread out, taking on other luchadors. I skirted around most of the fights before someone slammed into me. We both crashed to the ground, but I was the first to get up and get him in a headlock. He writhed around before getting on his knees. I jumped up and wrapped my legs around his throat, squeezing hard as I could. He stood and stumbled forward but eventually fell. The audience screamed louder, demanding more carnage, more blood, more brawling. I sprinted a a fighter turned away from me, jumped, caught his neck between my legs, and used my body weight to slam him to the ground. A cricket bat landed at my feet, yearning to be used. A lone fighter was standing at the edge of the crowd. I used a fighter as a spring-board and brought it hard upon him. He fell in a heap. I started hacking down the fringe of fighters in a red-tinted rage, propelling me with some force I hadn’t experienced. When it cleared, me and Killbane were the last ones standing and Angel on his knees. I rushed over to him and hoisted him up, letting him grab onto my shoulders. Applause rained down on us, sending happiness flooding through me.

"We won."


	6. Chapter 6

“Harder! Harder!” Angel groaned. The furniture lay in shambles on the floor, sheets were falling off the beds in disarray. 

"Are you sure?" I panted softly. 

"Please!" He demanded. 

"Okay..." I sprinted to him, tackled into his chest, and dragged him to the floor. 

"Very good, but get more force behind your piledrives, otherwise it just feels like being hit with a pillow." 

"I'll show you a pillow," I picked up a stray one and swung it into his face. 

He grabbed it and tore it from my hands, then threw it back at me. Feathers flew up and landed in my hair. "Stop!" I giggled. 

"We gotta get ready for the scaffold match," he laughed and hit me again. 

I got on the bed and looked at him, "Then why are you teaching me tackles instead of flying attacks? Those seem more useful." 

"Because you don't know those. Since you learned in military, you aren't used to taking a guy fully head-on, since you would've had a gun or knife to help you. You either already know the rest or could pick it up really easily." 

The compliment made me blush. "Really?" 

"Yeah, moves are pretty easy. A child could do it." 

"Oh," I said flatly. Such a charmer, this one.  

"Let go some more," he ordered with a smack from his pillow to back it up. 

I sprang off the bed and tackled him to the floor. He gave a belly laugh and pushed me off, flinging me back onto the bed. I lobbed some more pillows at him. He put both his arms up to make a shield, then jumped on the bed after me. “Stop!” I yelled. He grabbed my arms and pinned me down. “Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.” His breath was flowing over my face, warm and gentle, just like him. It filled me up.

“Really?” The last time he said that I got hurt.

“Yeah,” he said with a small smile.

The door opened to reveal Mike staring at us awkwardly. He gestured behind him, “I can come back later if I’m interrupting something.”

Angel pushed off me and quickly got to his feet, “We’re ready.”

“Yeah,” I sighed and joined him.

We walked out to the car and got inside. “So what’s the fight going to be this time?” I asked.

“A classic ring matchup. You’ll be against other medics and the guys will be tag teaming. Think you can manage?”

“I know I can.”

Mike smiled and kept driving until we arrived at the back entrance of the stadium. Our team fought through the crowd and into the dimly lit corridor. 

“You go that way,” Angel pointed to the left turn, opposite of where they were going. 

"Okay," I said softly and started walking. A crowd's roar echoed far down the hall, masking the sound of my footsteps. My steps toward the bright light at the end of the tunnel grew quicker, my shoulders squared back, and my arms flexed of their own accord. I sprinted out of the corridor just as the announcer yelled my name and bounded into the ring. Blows flowed in seamlessly, both by me and my blue-spandex clad opponent, Blue Demon again. 

He hissed, “I’m gonna kick your ass for what your friend did to my wife.”

“Well that’s Killbane for you,” I accented with a punch, “but I'm sure she liked it.”

He yelled and slammed his foot into my chest, then pinning me to the ground. I had to stay there, give the crowd a thrill. But as one of my ribs popped, I lost that desire really quickly. My foot slammed into his crotch, eliciting a shout from him. The noise of the audience was drowned out by the blood and adrenaline cocktail now flowing through my body. I swung my whole body into a punch that sent him back quite a few steps. He blocked and kept sending kicks and punches in a volley. I dodged away from each one, then kicked out. He blocked, grabbed me, and flung me into the ropes. I clambered on top of a post, then leaped toward him. My legs slammed into his throat and drove him to the ground. He staggered up, but not before I got him in a headlock. 

“Tap out,” I growled.

“You’ll have to choke me first.” He stood up and tried to grab me. I kept a hold on him until he finally dropped. I roared and threw my hands up for the screaming crowd. Fighter after fighter came for the deathmatch, but were defeated. The fights all passed in a red-tinted haze. When it cleared, I was standing in the corridor from where I came. 

“That was awesome,” I panted and started walking. Someone thumped toward me from the opposite end of the hall. When we got to the entrance, Killbane emerged from the shadows. 

“Did you win?” He asked. He was stained with blood and bruises, and his leg looked worse for wear. 

“Yeah.”

He grinned, “I knew you would.” 

I smiled and looked around, “So where’s Angel?”

“He’s outside, I think. But listen, I thought we could go get some drinks, have a little fun and maybe get to know each other?”

“Sure, let’s go,” I grabbed his arm and started to lead. He moved stiffly out like a man on death row. As promised, Angel was outside, smoking a cigarette. 

“Me and Killbane are gonna get a drink to celebrate, do you want to come?” 

"No, I'll go back to the hotel.” he replied bluntly and stamped out his cigarette. 

I grabbed his arm, "It'll be really fun, though." 

"I'll be alright," he backed up. 

"You sure? It won't end in a bar fight like last time." 

"I need to do something. Go have fun.”

“Sure thing…” I mumbled and rejoined Killbane. He smiled at me then hailed a cab. We got in and started the trek to Barton Hollow, an old pub.

“Thanks for taking me out, Killbane,” I supplied to break the silence. 

“You’re welcome. And please, call me Eddie.”

“Okay, Eddie.” 

He smiled and opened the door for me when we arrived. We walked inside and grabbed a table.

“So how did you get into the wrestling gig?” I questioned.

He sighed, “I was good at it, and it made money, so how could I say no?”

“That was the same with Angel,” I supplied, “no wonder you too are friends.”

“The sport is better with friends on your side,” he laughed, “and Angel’s a decent guy.”

“Yeah, he’s helped me out so much. I’d be screwed without him.”

His face twitched for a minute, but settled back to normal, “I could help you if you want.”

“I’d like that, thanks.” 

The rest of the night passed on without mention, until we got back to the room. It took a second for my eyes to register what was going on. I formed a response. "Angel, why is there a fucking tiger in the hotel room?" 

The man was perched on the end of his bed, holding a baby bottle in a tiger's mouth, if you could call the thing a baby. It took up all of Angel's lap and then some. "It's our new pet. His name is Xibalba." The feline looked toward us, then put his head back in Angel's lap. 

I hesitantly stepped toward it and offered my hand to the cat. "You've lost your fucking mind," I whispered as he sniffed my hand. 

"Well the guy I took it from was about to put it down, so I had to take it," Angel sighed. He rubbed the top of Xibalba’s head. 

The tiger mewed and started rubbing me with the side of it’s mouth. "Why would someone put him down?" 

"Not sure. But he needed someone to go with, that’s why I couldn’t go with you guys.”

“You didn’t miss much,” I replied and sat down on the bed to take my shoes off.

“Really?” 

“Yeah, it would’ve been fun though,” I said while I grabbed a pair of pajamas, then changed in the bathroom.

“I’m sure it would’ve. You look cute by the way,” he looked me up and down.

That made me blush for some reason, “Thank you.”

Angel rubbed the tiger on the top of it’s head, then put it in his gym bag.  Xibabla nestled into the pile of dirty clothes.

“He’s so cute,” I cooed and settled into bed almost the same way. 

“Yeah,” Angel laid down on his bed, “good night.”

“Night.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed my first fic on ao3! Kudos and reviews are always welcome!


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